Fences
by It'sTimeToDance
Summary: Don't look up just let them think there's no place else you'd rather be.


**A/N Okay, I know. This is such an overused band for songfics, but I really wasn't in the mood for my mopey/emo/indie/scarcely known bands, and this song is SO DAMN CATCHY!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Paramore, don't own Maximum Ride.**

* * *

I hate shots.

I know that's a stupid thing to hate, when your living a goddamn hospital--or some kind of sick, twisted variation of a hospital--and your not really sure whether or not the doctors are just sticking needles in you for the hell of it. I digress.

And--ouch. Right in the vein. At least they didn't miss this time.

_I'm sitting in a room made up of only big white walls  
And in the hall, there are people looking through  
The window in the door  
They know exactly what we're here for_

A women and a man watch the guy--all in white coats, of course--with a crazy kind of detached curiosity, like I wasn't a kid but a _thing. _Something to be adjusted and bought and owned and sold and played with. A toy, teddy bear or something, being kicked around the room. Just a _frikking _teddy bear.

You know, with wings.

Don't look up, just let them think  
There's no place else you'd rather be

I scowl at the clean tiled floors as his cold, glove-covered prod my muscles, my bones, sending chills up my spine. The hairs on the back of my neck stuck up.

"Hey," the girl in the cage beside mine called from across the room. "Why don't you stick that needle up your--"

"Quiet," the Whitecoat said, so automatically I wondered how many times he's had to quiet her down.

She'd been next to me for as long as I can remember, with her blond hair and deep _deepdeepdeep _brown eyes. She was pale, _so _pale. Probably because no one in this place ever got any sun, but still. It didn't look right on her, the light strands of hair falling on her forehead washing her out. She--like the rest of us 'expirments'--always looked sick.

And, they still watch me, and I don't let them see me grimace.

You're always on display  
For everyone to watch and learn from  
Don't you know by now? You can't turn back  
Because this road is all you'll ever have

A surge of anger locked my elbow and jerked my arm into the Whitecoat's chin.

He cursed--some very, very interesting words, if I may add--and sent the back of his hand peddling into my jaw. I almost fell off of the sterile operating table.

"Little--"

One of the women behind him--old, ancient old, with fake red hair and pursed lips--tutted her disapproval, whether at me or the Whitecoat I couldn't be sure. "Let's not damage the experiments. The Director won't be very forgiving a second time."

I looked to the brown-skinned girl, with her swollen lip and bloodshot eyes.

It occurred to me--for the umpteenth time that _hour--_how pointless this all was. The open sky mocked me with every second I couldn't taste it, and would continue to dangle how little freedom I had for the rest of my life.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying  
Just living proof that the camera's lying  
And oh, oh, open wide, 'cause this is your night  
So smile, 'cause you'll go out in style  
You'll go out in style

The needle was removed from my vein, and a pang of agony seemed to split my organs apart. I was used to this particular test. "Pain Endurance Evaluation" they called it.

I groaned, doubling over and biting my lip until it bled.

Would I die this way? In pain, pathetic pain, groaning and holding my stomach like it were a security blanket? Would this be the last thing anyone sees of me? Helpless...

The Whitecoat gestured to another women, who scribbled furiously at her clipboard. He pulled another vial from his coat pocket and tapped it in my arm as I trembled in pain. "Your done. Put it back in it's cage."

_It's _cage.

If you let me, I could  
I'd show you how to build your fences  
Set restrictions, separate from the world  
The constant battle that you hate to fight  
Just blame the limelight

The pain subsided into a dull ache as I was gripped by the shoulders and half dragged half lead towards my dog crate, unceremoniously jammed inside. The lock made a resounding _click _as I fumbled to my knees, one that echoed, as mocking as the sky.

The door shut, and I was alone with them.

The baby with her angelic blond hair and stupid grin. The black girl, muttering furiously to the wall, to whoever was listening. This, as it would seem, happened to be Blind Kid. Expressionless, misty blue eyes stared at her without really looking, nodding along with her words even though I was pretty sure he wasn't listening.

The girl with blond hair leaned against the bars of her cage, her _deepdeepdeep _brown eyes searching me with concern. "Are you okay?"

My head thudded. "'m fine."

She looked bloodthirsty, for a moment, her knuckles white as she gripped the bars. The black girl stopped chatting with Blind Kid and turned to me. "It helps," she said, "if you think of something else. Like using your wings. I think of flying. Sometimes, I think about touching the sun. But then I think of how hot the sun is, and how it would probably burn me to death..."

"I think of beating the crap out of those Whitecoats," the kid--who, I remembered, had a slight flatulence problem--said quietly, like he were planning their assassination at that moment.

_  
Don't look up, just let them think  
There's no place else you'd rather be  
And now you can't turn back  
Because this road is all you'll ever have_

"Jed said he's gonna get us out," the blond girl whispered to me.

It was a nice thought, but not too elating. I knew--_knew--_that this is it, this is the only thing we'll ever have, and we'll ever see, and it was so damn _depressing._

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying  
Just living proof that the camera's lying  
And oh, oh, open wide, 'cause this is your night  
So smile

"Let's play the escape game," the black girl suggested, after a rather uncomfortable silence.

The baby, a the far end of the room, squealing with...I don't know. Why do babies squeal, exactly?

Yeah, yeah, you're asking for it  
With every breath that you breathe in  
Just breathe it in

The door opened again, and a Whitecoat shrouded in shadow strode in, bending over the Blond girl's cage and unlocking it.

"Whassit this time?" she drawled, pressing herself to the back of her crate. "Horns? Scales? I've always wanted talons."

"Quiet," he hissed at her, clamping his fist on her elbow.

The rest, I suppose, was entirely her fault.

Yeah, yeah, well, you're just a mess  
You do all this big talking  
So now let's see you walk it  
I said, let's see you walk it

Her palm made a _smack _as it collided with the Whitecoat's cheek, sending him stumbling from his crouching position. She fell forward, nearly climbing over his chest and into the center of the room, grabbing for the door.

It was one of those types were you needed a password to open it. That didn't stop her, though, from kicking and scratching at the metal until blood spurted from her fingernails. The Whitecoat got to his feet and snatched her by the waist, pulling her away from the door and throwing her on one of the tables. "I need security," he screamed into a wrist watch. "I need goddamn _security!"_

She hissed and screamed and fought like a bat out of hell. The kids in the crates beside me screamed, whether in encouragement or protest, I didn't know. They just screamed.

They're not all talk, those Whitecoats, I concluded. They _do _have security.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying  
Just living proof that the camera's lying

Security did come, sedated her until she was limp on the table and took her away.

I hate this place I hate this place I _hate _this place.

When they brought her back, she was sluggish and paler, her skin coated with sweat. I said, "Nice show."

_  
And oh, oh, open wide, yeah, oh, oh, open wide_

She smiled lazily, lolling in her cage and tilting her head towards me, looking at me with her deepdeepdeep brown eyes.

_  
Yeah, oh, oh, open wide, 'cause you'll go out in style_

She said, "Hope you enjoyed it."

(I did, really)

I said, "Was it worth it?"

She said, "I wanna get out of here..."

(duh...)

She said, "I'm not gonna sit here for the rest of my life."

(tough luck)

She said, "I'm leaving."

(sure)

She said, "I'm leaving, or goin' down fighting..."

I smiled.

(okay)

"I'll fight with you."

_  
You'll go out in style_


End file.
